


Alaskan Marmalade

by bonernas



Series: Catdad Ironhusbands [2]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Paddington (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy has seen pretty much everything these days, M/M, Making Up, Paddington is a good bro, Tiny bit of Angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark got some issues but he loves his team, a tiny bit of Steve bashing if you squint, mentions of an anxiety attack, mentions of sled dogs, neither the dog part nor the topography of new york are accurate here, none of this is supposed to make sense, not anti Steve he is just the one Tony is mad about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22360639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonernas/pseuds/bonernas
Summary: When Tony sat down on the park bench to get some fresh air after a bad day, he didn't expect to meet a new friend. Especially not one with paws and a sweet tooth.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Series: Catdad Ironhusbands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609588
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Alaskan Marmalade

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a domestic encouter of my faves, Tony and Paddington. Turned into 2k+ of sled dog discourse after I googled for Central Park maps and found out there's a Balto statue, and me stumbling over all the parallels in Togo's wikipedia article.
> 
> Written for my dearest sakshi, who I've known for exactly one year now. Hope you like it <3000

The soft chirping of songbirds cut through the steady noise of New York’s afternoon traffic, mixed with the chatter of flocks of tourists making their way to Bethesda Fountain. A chilly autumn breeze rustled through the treetops, their leaves only tinted ever so slightly, barely visible against the sun. The gravel of the path looping Pilgrim Hill gritted under his Italian dress shoes and mixed into the buzzing of the city around him, yet all Tony heard was his own blood rushing in his ears.

Some heads turned after him; a few cameras clicked when he strut towards the Angel of the Waters, but he didn’t pay it a second thought and followed one of the smaller paths eventually getting him to Sheep Meadow. Tony was still restless and upset, his head replaying the argument that made him practically run into the artificial tranquility of Central Park, but both his sprint down East 72nd and his attire (bespoke, of course, but definitely not made to literally run from your problems) more or less forced him to make a beeline for one of the benches and take a seat.

It was oddly deserted today, and Tony was thankful for that. He needed some quiet, some sensory deprivation to keep his mind from buzzing _so goddamn much_ it gave him a headache, his brain and heart pumping so many chemicals through him so fast he had to loosen his tie and slip his cold fingers under the collar of his dress shirt to keep his neck from flushing.

Tony took a ragged breath. _Shhh_ , he told his brain. _Lemme think clear for a second._ He pressed his indexes into the base of his skull, posture slumping down more with every new breath, as if the arc reactor gained weight with each intake of his lungs and slowly dragged him to the ground. Eventually, his heart calmed down enough to make his chest stop clenching around the metal tin in his sternum, and with the pressure leaving his ribcage, he relaxed.

God, he must look so stupid. A grown ass man in a three-piece suit the price of a small car, sitting on a park bench with an anxiety attack because he had a fight with his fiancé? Sometimes he had a hard time believing he ran a successful multi-billion dollar company. _And to be precise_ , the tiny mean voice in his head chimed up, _it wasn’t even a fight - you just overreacted and wreaked all your anger on Rhodey._

Tony hated this voice, mostly because it was right. He had been in a terrible mood all day, and Rhodey just had happened to be the person he took it out on. It wasn’t even something substantial, just the usual sting about how SHIELD and media loved to bask Captain America in the best light, and have Iron Man take the piss for even the slightest inconvenience. Tony had learned years ago to not give a flying frick about the Bugle’s headlines. But today, when Steve had the chance to correct them and then _didn’t_ , and everyone just went along with kissing Cap’s spandex-clad hiney, not only ignoring that Tony did the lion’s share of the work, but also side-eyeing him for confronting Steve about it? Well, _that_ pissed him off pretty much.

And to make this day perfectly horrible, he had decided to go and vent to Rhodey, only to be met with the stoic boldness he usually admired about his fiancé, but sent him through the roof today. He had just wanted someone to be on his side, to flip off the rest of the team and maybe even gossip about Clint’s horrible new haircut, but Rhodey had just kissed his cheek, told him to mess with their new suits’ measurements as payback and walked off with the promise of running him a hot bath. Tony must’ve been the first person to snap at the prospect of bubbles and essential oils, but yes, that was pretty much from where it all went downhill.

A ruffle to his left intruded his train of thought, and Tony sat back up to snark at the unlucky bastard disturbing his self-loathing, only to lift a few inches off the bench with an embarrassingly shrill yelp.

“Odin’s _beard_ are you trying to get me into cardiac arrest? ‘Cause this was damn near successful, buddy,” he burst out, before giving the intruder another once-over. “You on the run from PeTA or somethin’?”

The creature trying to take a seat next to him slipped off the bank at his sudden eruption, and stared at him in what Tony could only call confusion. They both looked at each other silently for some seconds, Tony mentally bargaining with his fight or flight response, before the other slowly rose a - paw? - and lifted his shabby crimson hat, revealing a pair of small stubby ears.

“Wait, so you’re a… bear? In a hat and a duffel coat?”

“Good day Sir, name’s Paddington, Paddington Brown. I didn’t mean to scare you, nor give you a heart condition. May I offer you a nice marmalade sandwich as an apology?” the bear answered, and Tony decided the attire still was weirder than the British accent. His instincts figured the bear called Paddington wasn’t actually life-threatening, and his heart rate slowed down again.

“It’s alright, fuzzy. Pump’s still working. That what you do for a living? Sneaking up on people in Central Park and giving them a spook?” Tony’s voice was back to its usual soothing timbre, and encouraged by that, the bear climbed up on the bench again and started explaining.

About fifteen minutes later, Tony had called the Brown family - currently visiting Mrs. Brown’s niece - to inform them that yes, Paddington had gotten lost _again_ , and that yes, they could pick him up at _the_ Stark Tower in New York as soon as they could comfortably make it. After that, he had ordered Happy to pick them up at the Infantry Memorial, and to not freak out over his guest being a bear the size of an eight-year-old. 

They were rounding a corner midway into a conversation about oranges when Paddington’s attention shifted to something on Tony’s right. Tony followed his gaze and spotted one of the large statues all scattered over Central Park. The bear excused himself and eagerly padded towards the broad rock guarding the path; Tony rose a brow and followed foot.

“Oh, what a lovely looking dog,” Paddington remarked as Tony came to a halt next to him. The large, bronze siberian husky guarding the pompous inscription “ _Endurance. Fidelity. Intelligence.”_ was supposed to be a memoriam of “American Heroism”, but whenever Tony saw it all he could think was _is this a blep, or a mlem?_

“That’s Balto,” he informed Paddington while they approached the statue. The bear studied the embedded plaque, before turning back to Tony.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand any of this, but he does seem like a good boy,” he said, and Tony huffed. He rubbed a finger over Balto’s cool bronze paw and leaned onto the massive stone the dog was standing on.

“He was a sled dog, lived around the 1920s in Alaska. Led a team of other huskies and his musher on a famous run to deliver much needed medicine to a city in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of winter.”

“Well, I’m no expert for statues, but that seems like a very adequate reason to be rewarded with one,” Paddington answered with a soft smile.

“Y’know, I’d agree with you, fuzzy, but Balto was given the entire cake when there were actually multiple teams of sled dogs doing the trip. He didn’t even run the longest leg, he just happened to be the one to actually arrive in the city. Another dog ran about seven times the distance, saving his pack and his musher two times, yet the newspapers pictured Balto and his owner as if they’d run the entire race by themselves,” Tony explained, and he couldn’t fail to notice how oddly enthusiastic he got over journalists wrong-doing a sled dog several decades ago.

Paddington thought about this for some minutes, brows furrowed under the brim of his crimson hat. He then looked up at Tony and asked, “But Balto and his owner didn’t ask them to only praise their team, right? The papers decided that on their own?”

“Uhm, no he didn’t,” Tony answered, confused, “But when the first headlines popped up, Balto’s musher could’ve told them that it was actually the other dog, Togo, who did the most work. It would’ve been right. It would’ve been fair.”

“Sometimes there’s no harder task than doing what’s right, I’m afraid,” Paddington responded, and his words carried a wisdom so unfitting for a bear in a childrens jacket, it actually left Tony at a loss of words for a moment.

“Yeah you got a point there, but still. He should’ve just said, ‘Oh thanks, but we actually didn’t do the lion’s share of the race.’ Togo’s musher was really upset when he heard that no one appreciated the struggle his team went through, and honestly I can’t blame him. I mean, Balto still didn’t deserve to almost starve to death in some shady zoo after all the ruckus calmed down,” He admitted, suddenly remembering how the story had continued for Alaska’s canine hero, “But his fame was undeserved and Togo got robbed of what he rightfully earned.”

Paddington’s face had dropped when he heard about Balto’s fate, and Tony hurried to assure him that he was soon rescued from that awful place. They both had continued walking and reached their destination in comfortable silence, Tony still brooding over how he snapped at Rhodey, and the bear deep in thoughts about heaven knows what.

Happy already awaited them. He rose a brow at Paddington’s polite introduction, then just shrugged and tossed a “caught you doing worse, boss,” at Tony before closing the door. They merged into traffic smoothly and headed straight towards Stark Tower. For about half the ride they said nothing, Tony toying with the grey and red engagement ring on his hand, Paddington just looking out of the tinted window. But eventually, the bear turned back to him.

“Mr. Stark, excuse me for bringing this back up, but there’s something I don’t understand about the whole sled dog event,” he started, fidgeting with his seatbelt, “I’ve given this plenty of thought, but I just fail to understand why dedicating a statue to the dog doing the actual work is so important. As far as I’m concerned about dogs, they only care about statues if they need to spend a penny on their morning walks.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort at Paddington’s choice of words. Then again, the bear had a point there, didn’t he?

“And speaking of caring,” Paddington continued before Tony could put actual thought into an answer, “I can’t help to believe that Togo couldn’t have cared less about the press articles, as long as he had a nice and loving home - not like his poor friend.” His eyes drooped slightly at that thought, before they met Tony’s yet again, earnest worry deepening his frown. “He _did_ have a nice home, didn’t he?”

Tony needed a minute to recap his knowledge about Togo’s homelife, but then met the bear’s gaze and smiled.

“Yeah, yeah he actually did have a nice owner. Had a rough start, with the pup being so wimpy yet damn stubborn and with an entire beehive in his bonnet, but he was a natural leader. His owner said Togo’s been the best dog he’s ever had. They raced together for years, and his owner kept him til he died. So yep, in the long run, Togo kinda came out as the winner,” Tony explained, his brain stumbling over what he had just said. Was he still talking about dogs?

“I’m delighted to hear that,” Paddington answered and looked every bit like it. “A dog so brave and loyal can call itself happy to have someone believing in him despite of everyone. But tell me, Mr. Stark - how come you’re so educated on this topic?”

“Well, back when-,” Tony started, but got interrupted by Happy rolling down into the tower’s garage and turning off the engine. He quickly informed JARVIS about their expected guests before tagging along with Paddington to the elevators and up into his penthouse.

Rhodey looked up at the small mechanic _ping_ of the elevator doors, the soft smile dropping along with his jaw as soon as a bear ( _a bear?_ ) stepped out of it and let his eyes wander around the place curiously.

“Tony. Tony why is this bear tipping its hat at me?” Rhodey asked, gaze fixed on their small visitor inspecting a vase twice his size. He hadn’t expected his fiancé back anytime soon, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected him to tag along a wild animal dressed like a preschooler. Tony kicked his shoes off and threw his jacket over a chair before scooting over to Rhodey.

“It’s a long story, but a funny one, I promise. But first,” Tony got on his tiptoes, cupped Rhodey’s face and planted a quick, but firm kiss on his lips, “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot and you’re way too sweet to me. Honestly, way, way too sweet. I’m so lucky to have you.” He underlined every sentence with another kiss, and Rhodey couldn’t help but smile into them before gently pushing Tony away.

“Not that I’m one to turn down such an apology, but help me out here. You come home upset, you snap at me for offering you a bubble bath. You go because you need some air. You come back and bring plenty of these, “ another kiss, “and. Well. An upright walking, dressed up bear.”

“Oh, he talks, too,” Tony added, looking over where Paddington got cornered by their cats Susu and Mochi. The third one, Jonathan, was rubbing his cheek on Tony’s leg with a loud purr. “But yeah, since we parted I met fuzzy over there and had plenty of sled dog discourse, so-”

“Oh don’t tell me you ranted over Togo again,” Rhodey interrupted him, the look on Tony’s face telling him he hit bulls eye.

“How on earth would you know-”

“Because I was present at your first MIT campus party, and one of the unlucky people witnessing your drunk monologue over, what did you call it? ‘America's biggest canine tragedy’, if I’m correct,” Rhodey grinned and picked up Jonathan before he could commit homicide on Tony for ignoring him.

Just as he was about to ask Rhodey if he had any proof to back up this scrumptious accusation, they were startled by a loud _clang_ , and an early MARK’s helmet rolled into the living room, followed by Paddington.

“Apologies, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to knock it over! I was just wondering where you’re keeping your marmalade sandwiches in this, and then it went tumbling all of a sudden, “ the bear hurried to explain, picking the helmet up carefully.

“ _Marmalade sandwiches?_ ” Rhodey asked, his eyebrow raising the very moment JARVIS informed them that the Browns had arrived to pick Paddington up.

Tony shrugged. “I’ll explain later. Gotta drop fuzzy off in the lobby first. Then we’ll talk, okay? And kiss. Lots of kissing. Actually, we could drop the talking for star-”

“Go and return your teddy, before he starts shedding. No offense, Paddington,” Rhodey laughed.

“None taken, Sir,” Paddington replied as he and Tony entered the elevator once again. Tony pressed the button for ground level before turning back to Rhodey, meeting his eyes.

“Love you, Platypus.”

“Love you too, Tones,” Rhodey answered, and the elevator doors closed over his smile.


End file.
